Chapter 23 #2
I gave the order to affix my single saddle to Draxxinar’s back. After a few minutes, the keepers had it safely secured.
Delilah walked beside me as we greeted my beast. Draxxinar studied her and rumbled nervously, hot steam flaring from his nostrils.
“Don’t be intimidated by the size,” I told her with a wicked grin. “I promise… you’ll enjoy it.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, not missing a beat and refusing to take the bait.
“I highly doubt that,” she said flatly and walked past me toward my dragon. She slowly reached out her palm to him.
Draxxinar growled—a gentle sound, but with a stern warning under it.
“I wouldn’t do that,” I warned.
She pulled her hand back and looked at me. “He’s not friendly,” I added.
It wasn’t a lie. He was moody and unpredictable.
“That book about dragons you wanted me to read said dragons only bond themselves to riders who have the same personality traits,” she said.
“So?” I asked, not seeing the relevance.
Her eyes widened and sparkled with mischief. “So, watch this.”
She turned to Draxxinar and, in an obnoxiously exaggerated voice, began praising him. “Oh, Draxxinar… you are the biiiiiiiggest dragon I’ve ever seen! I bet you’re the largest in the entire realm!”
His mood softened instantly. The corners of his horrifying mouth turned up. His eyes opened wider. His breathing turned heavier— almost like panting, and his massive tail started swishing back and forth, sending keepers scrambling for safety.
Delilah stepped closer and stroked his lower jaw. “I bet all the female dragons love Draxxinar because you’re just so big and beautiful. The most good-looking dragon I’ve ever seen.”
The scaly giant grumbled a purr-like sound and melted under her touch, fixating on her every word. I didn’t even know he could make that sound. I’d never seen him so… happy.
I clenched my fists at my sides because I already knew where this was going, and I didn’t like how accurate it felt. He thought highly of himself. Always had. The largest wingspan. The fiercest bite. The most feared roar, and yes, his size.
I supposed we had that in common.
He was usually terrifying and mean as shit. That’s what I loved about him.
But I didn’t recognize him right now. Delilah turned to me with a victorious smirk.
“Alright,” I barked, irritated. “You made your point. Let’s go.”
I scooped her up like a bushel of wheat and carried her on my hip as I climbed up Draxxinar’s wing to the saddle. She protested—“Hey,” and “Put me down”—and started pounding her fists on my thigh.
It felt like getting hit with a slice of bread.
"Stop fighting,” I muttered. “If you fall, you die.” I sat and placed her on my lap.
Draxxinar’s long neck swiveled. His massive head hovered only a few feet away. And he looked enraged, angrier than I had ever seen.
I commanded him to fly, but for the first time ever, he did not obey. Instead, he glared at me and released a low, threatening growl.
Was this fucker really going to turn on me? Try to eat me?
I swore I would kill him and mount his head in the great hall. Then I noticed Delilah was still thrashing against the straps and cursing at me.
No fucking way.
Was he upset because the human woman was in distress? I commanded him again. He ignored me.
Then he began to unleashed a ferocious roar, startling us both.
I immediately covered Delilah’s fragile mortal ears. Even mine rang violently. Warm liquid seeped from my ears, and I realized— grimly—that I might be bleeding.
Delilah froze mid-tantrum. She reached for the scales on his back and closed her eyes.
Draxxinar huffed—once, twice—then slowly settled. Finally, he closed his yellow reptilian eyes.
With her eyes still closed and her hand still on his back, Delilah said, “He’s not fat and lazy. He’s depressed.”
I said nothing.
My mind was still processing that my own dragon had nearly turned on me because I handled a mortal woman too roughly for his
K. ROSé
liking. I was even more disturbed that Delilah calmed him, and now she was communicating with him somehow.
What in the actual fuck was happening?
Only high-born, high-blooded magic Fae males could ride dragons. How was it possible that this mortal woman could connect to them in a way I had never seen?
Fae could communicate with their own bonded dragons on some level—not with words, but with shared emotion. Danger. Hunger. Rage.
As angry as I was at Draxxinar, curiosity clawed harder. “You can actually hear words?” I demanded. “Like their voices?”
She nodded. “Yes. At first I wasn’t certain. The small brown dragon’s voice sounded like a faint whisper. I thought I was imagining it. But the more time I spend with them, the clearer it becomes.”
I nodded, equal parts fascinated and concerned. I’d read of those with greater magic, those with ancient blood, who could hear dragon voices. History called them Dragon Whisperers.
An ability believed to have died out long ago with the dilution of ancient blood. To my knowledge, not even Aurelius could communicate like that. But Dragon Whisperers were supposed to hear only their bonded dragon.
Delilah sounded like she could hear… more than one. Maybe all of them. A chill crawled up my spine at the implication. “What did he say to you?” I asked.
Her attention shifted from Draxxinar to me. Her impossibly blue eyes flickered across my face, examining. Her lips pressed into a tight line. No emotion—none she’d let me see.
Then she looked back to my dragon. Her hand remained on his back.
After a moment she said, “He doesn’t like it when you order him to eat people. And he doesn’t like being perceived as a monster.”
A heaviness settled in my ribs. Draxxinar and I were more alike than I had thought. She glanced at me again and added, “He would also like more goats. He prefers them to cows.”
Her lips curved into a small smile, so many emotions crushed me under their weight, guilt, regret, and awe. I didn’t know which.
Then I remembered she was in my lap. I buckled us in, the tight straps adding even more pressure between my legs. I tried to ignore the warmth and curve of her ass—firm yet supple—pressed directly against my traitorous, hardening cock.
Wind tossed a lock of her hair loose, and it brushed my cheek. Her scent wrapped around me. It was strong even outdoors. But it wasn’t lust I sensed first.
It was her power.
And as much as I hated it, I couldn’t resist relishing in it.
Now that Draxxinar agreed to comply, I leaned forward and grabbed the saddle handles, trapping her between my arms. She fit so well there.
We were too close.
She shuddered. I inhaled the spike of her arousal, sharp and potent.
My control thinned.
I gave my dragon the command, and we lifted into the air.
Delilah didn’t know what to do with her hands. There was only one set of grips on a single saddle. Draxxinar was massive, but he was fast as fuck, and she needed something to hold onto.
I groaned in irritation, because I knew I was going to have to do something I didn’t want to do.
I took her hands and placed them on the handles, then wrapped my hands around hers.
Her fingers were warm, soft, and delicate—a pleasant contrast to mine.
It was an intimacy I didn’t do.
I enjoyed fucking. But I didn’t kiss. I didn’t cuddle. And I sure as hell didn’t hold hands.
I despised intimacy. It always seemed like a waste of valuable time.
This situation, with the solo saddle, was literally forcing my hand.
And to my surprise… I didn’t entirely hate it.
She moved her hair to one shoulder, giving me an unobstructed view ahead. But my face was within an inch of her neck, and that’s all I could seem to focus on.
Draxxinar beat his wings against the current, and we gained speed on our flight to the Kingdom of Terrain.
Two hours touching her—without touching her—was going to be the death of me.